


Ask For It

by gothboobs



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Comfort/Angst, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothboobs/pseuds/gothboobs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty tries to trick Rick into giving him what he so desperately wants...trouble is Rick doesn't take kindly to tricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask For It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KousKousx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KousKousx/gifts).



> More or less a follow up to my other fic "Follow Directions."

November’s seasonal blusters bullied the garage door and forced themselves through the cracks and spaces to chill the interior where Morty stood over Rick’s shoulder and watched him calibrate the portal gun. Pausing to think, Rick laid his hand flat against the table and tapped absentmindedly a few times before his long fingers returned to fiddling with the wires inside the complicated device. Morty chewed his tongue as the flat palm against the table reminded him of the last time he felt that palm crack against his bottom while he was upended over Rick’s knee. 

Since that first initial punishment, Morty had been spanked six times, the last of which was only a couple weeks ago. The first time had been the worst, and Morty promised himself he’d never give Rick another reason to do that again, but that night as he furiously masturbated in his bed with his sore ass throbbing beneath him, his orgasm had been the most powerful he’d ever experienced.

At the time Morty had simply dismissed it as unusually strong due to adrenaline still in his system after enduring pain. But feeling his butt tingle and itch for days afterward every time he sat down soon became an obsession. 

Morty’s filthy internet search history got a whole lot filthier as he spent his nights googling his questions and trying to find answers. Enjoying pain as a sexual experience was called _masochism_. Easy enough right? Morty had stolen an old wooden spoon from the kitchen his mom didn’t use anymore, and after finding an afternoon on his own, he’d attempted to beat off and spank himself simultaneously with hilarious and disappointing results. Maybe doing them together wasn’t ideal. So the next time he had whacked himself until he couldn’t bear it any longer…only to discover he was flaccid and couldn’t get it up even if he tried.

He became so consumed with trying to figure out what was special about that first time that he was driven to distraction, and on an adventure not long after, Morty had forgotten his promise to Rick and neglected to follow directions, resulting in a dinged-up flying saucer and an extremely irritated Rick.

The resultant spanking was long, hard, and had Morty kicking and crying after only a minute because as Rick eloquently put it: “No-euughh-ot gonna go e-easy on you kid since this isn’t your first time anymore.”

And certainly, there was nothing easy about it. But after he was spanked and finished sobbing his heart out bent over Rick’s lap, his grandfather had picked him up and sitting against the wall on the bed, had cradled Morty as tenderly and gently as a kitten.

Morty’s orgasms that night had him screaming into his pillow. The realization that it was Rick specifically that induced his masochism was an annoying connection to make, as Morty was already having an intensely difficult time getting over the pervy crush he was nursing for the angry old scientist. But it was his favorite thing to jack off to now. The way Rick’s thighs felt pushing up into his hips, the firm, low, and gravelly voice Rick used during the punishment, the feeling of stinging pain and heat being expertly applied to his bottom over and over again by Rick’s hard hand…the shame of it all only made it _hotter_.

An entire two months passed between the second and third time, as Morty wrestled with the idea of trying to incite punishment on purpose and also feeling horribly guilty about the mere concept of being bad on purpose. Plus, the spanking was never enjoyable in the moment, and it was an effective deterrent for repeat offenses. Rick’s spankings were serious affairs, and afterward Morty was keenly interested in behaving himself.

Despite this, Morty was an average teenager and soon enough he bucked authority twice more, inviting wonderful and terrible consequences that had him shrieking in pain during, and then shrieking in ecstasy much later.

A month after spanking number four Morty couldn’t bear it anymore and purposefully disobeyed a simple command. They had been out on a mission at the time, so Morty had assumed Rick would wait till they were home, but no such luck. Rick had simply landed the flying saucer on a random asteroid, stepped out, propped his foot against the side of the ship, and thrown Morty bodily over his raised knee.

Rick was tall, so this position left Morty dangling precariously in the air with nothing to hold on to for support, and nixing his usual method of slow warm up over boxers, Rick had elected to simply strip everything off Morty from the waist down and wallop his ass until he finally decided his snot-nosed, blubbering grandson had had enough and tossed him half naked back into the ship. The rough treatment had Morty positive that Rick was still furious with him, but as soon as they returned home, Rick had commanded Morty go straight to his bedroom. Unwilling to invite more punishment, Morty had sadly obeyed, only to be happily surprised when Rick followed him up to his bedroom a few minutes later with a cold, wet, hand towel. Ordering his pants back down again, Rick had arranged Morty to lay on the bed on his stomach and draped the wet towel over Morty’s dark red butt before sitting down on the bed and having his grandson lay his head on his lap while he ran his fingers through the soft brown curls and described Flesh Curtains concerts until Morty had dozed off.

It was after this incident that Morty realized what he liked so much. The pain was great afterwards to masturbate with, but the snuggles post-spanking were amazing, and he craved that physical attention from Rick. But his grandfather was certainly not the type to enjoy random cuddles…Morty figured Rick only did it to provide aftercare, another handy vocabulary Morty had learned during his internet research. 

Desperately needy and unable to wait until he was stupid enough to accidentally disobey Rick…Morty disobeyed on purpose. It was small; Rick asked Morty to be somewhere on time, and not to be late. So Morty had shown up an hour late.

Seething, Rick had promised comeuppance when they got back home, and always one to follow through with his promises, that night Morty had cried himself to sleep in Rick’s bed while Rick rubbed his back and admonished him against being late. 

With number five still a recent memory, Morty had incited number six only three weeks later by purposefully following Rick into a dirty, shady bar under the pretense that he was worried Rick would “need” him. That had invited another spur-of-the-moment correction, this time in a dingy alien bathroom while Morty bit his tongue and tried not to embarrass himself by hollering.

“Morty!”

The teenager was snapped out of his trip down memory lane by Rick glaring up at him with an open hand.

“Morty, hey, focus.” Rick pointed over to one of his many shelves, “C-an you-euughh-can you get me the proton gun? Bring me the blue one, don’t grab the older one, it’s touchy, I don’t want it to e-eugh-xplode in your hands or anything.”

“Okay Rick.” Morty hurried over to the shelf and found the proton guns after a quick minute of searching. The blue gun was easily distinguishable from the older, gray gun, which was marked with burns, scrapes and chips. Morty stood in front of the guns and debated back and forth in his head before reaching out and grabbing the gray gun.

“Bad move, you sneaky piece of shit.”

“RICK!” Morty spun and dropped the gun in shock, which clattered harmlessly to the floor. Rick braced his hands on the shelf behind Morty and invaded his personal space, pushing his face close to his grandson’s and staring at him coldly.

“Y-you’re lucky I was lying about that proton gun, Morty.” Rick scolded, “If I had told the truth, y-y-you woulda blown up the garage.”

“I-I-I-I-”

Rick silenced Morty with a hand to his mouth and dropped his voice to a low growl, “Now y-you’re pretty stupid Morty, but my directions were very clear. Repeat my directions to me.”

Morty’s heart hadn’t slowed down from jumping to a race when Rick had appeared behind him. He tried in vain to steady his quivering voice, but being caught red-handed like this was terrible on his nerves. “Y-y-y-youuuu…you said to get the blue p-proton gun, and n-n-not the old one.”

“And what did you do?”

“I uh…” Morty shrugged up at Rick, but Rick snapped his fingers angrily so Morty hastened to continue, “Okay, I-I picked up the old one.”

“Why?”

Morty opened his mouth to respond, but left it hanging open as Rick grilled him with a fierce gaze, “Y-you had better not lie to me Morty, or your last punishments will feel like gentle taps in comparison.”

Well, this was a problem. After that threat there was no way Morty would lie now, as he could barely tolerate what Rick normally did, but he also couldn’t exactly admit the truth either.

“I—” Morty sputtered incoherently as his brain struggled between two shitty options.

Rick watched him closely for a few moments before sighing and straightening up, “Morty, g-go –euuughhh- go stand and wait in my room.”

“B-but—”

“ _Morty_.” Rick grit his teeth grinding out Morty’s name like it left a bad taste in his mouth, “Follow directions a-a-and get y-your ass up there before I spank you here in the garage and then again upstairs.”

“Okay!” Morty ducked under Rick’s arm and scurried out of the garage and sprinted up the stairs with his throat tightening and his ears burning.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck how could he have been so obvious? Morty stood in the center of Rick’s room, staring at the unmade bed, intensely aware that he was about to be crying into the sheets. Waiting was probably worse than the actual spanking itself. Knowing what was about to happen and being powerless to stop it, while enduring the exquisite embarrassment of knowing he was the one responsible for his predicament was uniquely horrible.

He was happy Rick had pulled him out of school for the day to help him fix stuff because that meant the house was empty and at least no one would overhear anything, because judging by Rick’s demeanor downstairs he was _not_ pleased.

The sound of the door opening behind him squeezed a frightened squeak out of Morty and Rick would have chuckled if he weren’t so annoyed. Morty was standing in the middle of the bedroom shifting back and forth on his heels, sweat pooling on his forehead and neck, fingers twisted awkwardly together in apprehension.

Sitting down heavily on the side of the bed Rick crossed his arms and glared at the quaking little bundle of brown curls and nerves before him. “This –uuurp- this seems like a better place to continue our _discussion_.” Rick enunciated his words very carefully as he watched Morty’s face waver back and forth between ashamed and terrified. “Why did you d-deliberately ignore my directions?”

Because I want you to spank me. Morty felt his mouth open and close silently but couldn’t seem to force the words out. This was the only time Rick was ever patient; when Morty was struggling to form a coherent sentence seconds before he was turned over a knee. “I-I-I—” Morty squeezed his jeans in his fists at his sides, “I-I uhh…I—” Morty gave up, he would die before admitting that. “I don’t know Rick.”

Rick’s eyebrow slowly raised and he fixed Morty with an incredulous glare, “Re-really Morty?” Reaching forward he grabbed the teenager by both hands and dragged him to stand between his legs. 

Morty winced and fidgeted as Rick swiftly undid the front of his jeans, and then mewled pitifully as not just his jeans but his boxer briefs as well were pulled together all the way down to his ankles. “Awww, Rick—”

“Don’t –euughhh- ‘aww Rick’ me, Morty!” Rick snapped before pulling Morty forward and settling him over his knee. “I gave you an opportunity to explain yourself.”

In the back of his head Morty wondered if he’d ever not feel embarrassed being in this position. He’d been here enough times to settle onto Rick’s lap with easy familiarity but somehow every time it was still the worst thing in the world. Rick’s hand rested gently against his naked bottom. The touch sent shivers through him and Morty squirmed, grasping the blanket beside his head and wincing in anticipation.

“I’ll ask again,” Rick’s hand slowly rubbed down one thigh, and then up the other to rest again on Morty’s pale, perky ass. “Why did you _deliberately_ ignore my dire-euughh-ctions?”

What was the point? Morty wondered how Rick would respond if he blurted out the reason now. He couldn’t. The shame at wanting to be spanked, and disappointing Rick on purpose in order to be spanked, curled up inside Morty’s stomach like poison, and his throat tightened. He was fucking terrible. He was gross and he was terrible for wanting this, and for trying to trick Rick, and for—

“Morty, I’m waiting.”

The words tumbled out of Morty’s mouth before he could reconsider his tone: “I already t-told you, I don’t know!” 

Rick’s hand continued to slowly rub and Morty wished he could just curl up inside himself like a turtle he so thoroughly hated himself at this moment. “Well,” Rick’s hand left his ass, “I’ll endeavor to jog your memory.”

Like a football to the stomach, the first swat always knocked the breath out of Morty. And as he dragged air back into his lungs, the second, third and fourth followed in quick succession, enough for him to gasp out, “Oh, god!”

“God can’t help you.” Was the murmured reply as Rick wrapped his arm around Morty’s middle to hold him securely, and then began again.

The worst part about getting spanked by Rick was there was no pattern to the process. He’d start with three swats to one cheek, three swats to the other, but then he’d switch it up and go back and forth, and then travel down and spend time smacking the back of Morty’s thighs as the teenager yelped and kicked his feet, before moving back up and spanking directly in the middle. The unpredictability of where Rick’s hand was going to land next just added another layer of fear and anxiety to an already dreadful experience. 

As usual, Morty attempted to keep count but number twenty-two landed on a particularly sore spot, and after that he lost count. Rick was spanking harder than usual and no amount of wiggling lessened the smacks that rained down on his unprotected bottom.

“Rick! I—ahh! Rick, I—OUCH! Rick I’m r-re-re-ouwwwww-remembering!”

“Glad t-to hear it.” Rick’s other hand moved over to affectionately ruffle Morty’s curls as his other continued its onslaught.

“Y-you c-can stop! Yeowch! Rick, I—ahh!—I’m ready to talk!”

“No,” Rick’s calm voice cut through the symphony of smacks and Morty’s breathy gasps like a light through fog, “Y-you’re not ready yet.”

“I _am_!”

“Don’t give me attitude, young man.”

Ah, shit. ‘Young man’ meant Morty was really in trouble. “Riiiiick please! OWWW!”

“Morty, calm down.” Rick paused and rested his hand on the pink, squirming and clenching bottom in his lap. “Y-y-you don’t have to get s-so worked up, Morty. I’m right here,” he tightened his grip around Morty’s middle, “a-a-and I’m going to take good care of you, okay Morty? I’m-euughh-I’m gonna make sure you remember this one.”

“AHHH!”

“And then M-morty, we’ll have a talk and we-eughh-we’ll figure this out. But for now, just relax and behave yourself.”

Being told to relax during a spanking was his pet peeve, and Morty kicked his foot irritably as Rick‘s perfectly on-target hand continued to drive home the sentiment ‘follow directions.’ 

Bravely trying to contain his tears, and wondering what on god’s green earth compelled him to actually seek this out, Morty was stunned by a particularly hard swat that caught him by surprise and his resolve wilted, leaving him bawling with a rush into the blanket beneath him.

“There you go.” Rick paused to rub softly, “Jeez, Morty y-y-you act like I’ve never seen you cry before. You literally cried just this morning when you shut your finger in –uuurppp- the door by accident, you sensitive little shit.” 

Morty took advantage of the temporary pause to catch his breath. A wise decision as Rick began again a moment later. 

The covers were already wet with snot and tears beneath him but it hardly mattered to a very upset Morty as he pushed his face into the damp spot and cried earnestly. This was the longest he’d ever been spanked he was sure of it. Somehow the shame of being caught in the act of inviting it on purpose made the punishment sting more, and every time Morty twisted or attempted to wriggle away, Rick simply repositioned him and held him down tighter, growling sternly before starting back up again.

After what was surely an eternity, Rick’s hand came to a stop and rested gently against the burning red skin of Morty’s bottom, “Are y-you ready to talk, Morty?”

Morty was scarcely aware that Rick had stopped spanking, “Y-y-yeeeesss—”

“Good.” Rick patted firmly, drawing a yelp from Morty before he returned to softly rubbing, “L-l-let’s begin with an easy question; why are you over –uurpp-over my knee getting a spanking?”

“Buh-buh-bu’cuz I-I d-din’t follow y-yur d’rectionnns.” Morty winced at the sound of his own voice barely coherent through his tears.

“Yes.” Rick’s firm voice softened ever so slightly with his next question, “Now for a harder question,” Rick swatted Morty half a dozen times to produce a fresh crop of tears before inquiring, “Why did you disobey on purpose, Morty?”

Dammit. Morty hiccupped pathetically into the covers. What was the point in lying now? Rick was already disappointed in him, “I w-wanted uh—I-I wanted you to sp-sp-sp—” Morty pushed his head into the covers and finished his sentence muffled by blankets.

“If you’d rather not talk right now Morty, I can keep going, m-my arm isn’t tired ye—”

“NO!” Morty wriggled with fright, “Pleeeease! I wanted—I-I-I wanted—you to…agh!” Morty balled his fists beside his face, “I wanted you t-to spank me.”

“Mmm.” Rick continued to softly smooth his hand over the cherry red bottom, “Why did you lie earlier?”

Defeated, exhausted, and wet with tears, Morty turned his face to the side and numbly stared at the wall behind Rick, “I’m embarrassed.”

Rick snorted above him and gave him a hard smack for the admission, “Morty y-you could’ve j-just asked instead of wasting our time and-and ruining adventures with-euughh—mischievousness.”

He wasn’t…appalled? Morty felt his gut loosen. Rick wasn’t put off by that…?

“In fact, let’s practice now.” Morty felt Rick shift beneath him, and he was slowly helped to his feet to stand between Rick’s spread legs. His hands immediately flew to his bottom to rub away the soreness, but Rick grabbed them and held them in front.

“Now,” Rick raised his eyebrow and glared up at the weepy teenager, “Ask me for a spanking.”

“But—” Fresh tears began to pour down Morty’s face…he wasn’t done yet? At this rate he would never sit down comfortably again, “Y-y-you’ve a-a-a—”

“Morty, after your behavior, after lying and –eughh—trying to trick me into doing things, do you really think your spanking is over?”

Morty’s heart sank. Rick wasn’t finished with him yet, “N-noooo..I guess not…”

“So, we can practice now.” Rick released Morty’s hands and watched Morty carefully, “Go on, ask f-for what you want.”

“R-rick,” Morty felt his face flush, “Rick, c-c-can I—I mean—m-may I um…w-will you please s-sp-sp-spank me?”

“Yes.” Rick opened his arms and drew Morty back toward him and over his knee, gently patting Morty’s sore bottom before remarking, “Y-your ol’ Grandpa Rick will take care of you Morty, don’t worry.”

As before, the first swat is always the worst. And on top of a freshly spanked bottom, it was torture. Morty began crying immediately, but Rick’s smacks were far more gentle this time around. Exhausted, Morty could only manage to weep quietly into the covers as Rick spanked him for another minute more before stopping again to slowly rub the hot orbs of flesh. “Y-you can’t make me hate you, Morty.”

The statement was so sudden Morty almost stopped crying entirely, “W-whuut?”

“Nothing you c-could ever say or-or-euughh-or do will be too much f-for me to handle Morty.” Rick chuckled, “I already knew you were developing a ‘thing’ for spanking, _Morty_. You can’t hide anything from me, dipshit.”

“Ohhhh—” Morty pushed his head into the covers. Of course Rick already knew. Rick knew everything all the time. Of course. Of fucking course.

Rick continued to softly rub slow, lazy circles onto Morty’s bottom as Morty attempted to catch his breath and stop crying, “I w-was waiting for you to grow a pair and just talk to me about it Morty, fuck—” Rick gave Morty a firm pinch that made the teenager arch his back and hiss, “I don’t want to-to have to keep saying this Morty…if you need to talk to me about something just talk; because otherwise I’ll have to encourage it out of you.” He ended with two hard smacks and Morty yelped into the covers.

“Y-y-yes sirrrr…”

“Are we g-going to have to discuss this again?”

“No sir!”

“I hope not.” Rick continued to slowly rub, “What will you do in the future now?

“I’ll—” Morty hesitated, better to be honest now, “I’ll t-try t-t-to ask for it Rick b-but it’s—” Morty pressed his fingertips against his cheeks, “It’s really embarrassing!”

“Mmm.” Rick’s fingers cupped along the cleft of Morty’s ass and beneath him, Morty cooed appreciatively, “I suggest you get over it Morty, b-because if you pull a stunt again like you did today—” his hand lifted up and Morty tensed in anticipation, “I will spank you so thoroughly you won’t even be able to beat off later. Do you understand me?”

A flurry of spanks followed Rick’s threat’s and against this staccato rhythm, Morty breathlessly confirmed, “YES! I UNDERSTAND YOU!”

Satisfied, Rick finally lifted Morty up into his arms, scooted back until his back was against the wall, and settled his grandson in his lap, cradling him to his chest and shushing him gently. Morty buried his head in Rick’s chest and bawled sorries as Rick rubbed his back and murmured sweetly how good Morty had been and how well Morty had taken his spanking.

Reaching down, Morty tentatively felt his bottom and gasped in shock at how hot it was.

“Sore?”

Morty looked up at Rick who was barely managing to contain a smirk. He pouted, “Yes, v-very.”

“Ah, too-euughh-too bad. I guess that means y-you won’t be asking for a spanking for a while.”

Morty pressed his face into Rick’s chest and groaned, “What do you mean ‘too bad’? You act like you enjoy this!”

“I do.”

Morty ripped himself away from Rick’s chest so fast he nearly toppled out of Rick’s lap completely. “Y-y-you—”

Rick smirked full force, “Y-you don’t listen very well. The first time I had you over my knee I remarked you have a very spankable bottom. And you do—” Rick snickered as he pulled Morty back down to snuggle him against his chest, “So yes, it’s too bad you’re out of commission for a while.”

Morty fidgeted in his arms, “W-why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Why didn’t _you_ tell me?”

Morty ‘hmphed’ at the question and instead cuddled closer, “W-well if-if I ask for a spanking it won’t be this hard right?”

“Oh shut up you piece of shit baby.” Rick jostled him in his lap and growled, “They’ll be just as hard, and I know that won’t stop you from asking.”

Morty sighed in irritation, but Rick was right so why deny it? He wrapped his arms around Rick’s neck and closed his eyes contentedly, “Y-yeah…I guess you’re right…but y-you’ll take care of me, right Rick?”

“Yes, baby.” Rick’s large hands reached down and cupped Morty’s red bottom, squeezing firmly as Morty squealed next to his ear in protest, “I’ll take good care of you, Morty.”


End file.
